In another thread, Mellissa asked for "tips" to avoid becoming attached to the outcome. Perhaps the key is to see clearly what it is that you value in climbing. Do you value getting to the top without falling, or do you value the process itself?

I do a lot of redpoint climbing. One thing that I've learned is that I will eventually get the redpoint. Therefore, getting the redpoint is routine, and provides little real satisfaction. Likewise, if I want to climb 5.12d or 5.13a, or whatever, I'll eventually get that grade, so that can't be that big a deal either. So, if I don't care about getting to the top of the climb, or even to the next letter grade, why do I keep trying to get to the top of the climb and to the next letter grade? What is the real motivation behind climbing ever more challenging routes?

Is getting to the top without falling really your motivation for climbing? If so, then why do you choose routes that you can't onsight? If you could consistently onsight 5.11d, what would you do, keep climbing 5.11d? No, you'd climb 5.12a's, and if that weren't hard enough, you'd keep bumping it up until you fell. Consistently getting to the top without ever falling would quickly get boring; therfore, the "outcome" must not be what we truly value. It must be something else; namely, the learning.

Yeah, learning, the challenge, the adventure-- whatever you want to call it, that;s what's important. Getting to the top is almost a byproduct for me. Topping out without falling is great but it is not the ultimate moment on a climb for me by any means.

I think two of the most important things to me about climbing are 1) to enjoy my time on the rock and enjoy the rock, and 2) to have some fun.

"Learning" isn't it, for me. I mean, I value learning, but there are many avenues to learn. Why not take up golf? Learning to climb a 5.13 is grade school compared to golfing well. Learning is integral but secondary to my primary value.

The primary value? Movement on rock. The redpoint, flash, onsight are all forms of movement. And not mere movement, but clean, graceful, continuous movement over rock. The cleanest, most graceful, most continuous movement happens on redpoint/flash/onsight---and they all lead to climbing the route without falling off.

There's no use to me in asking why I value movement. It would be like asking why breathe? Eat? Love? As always

The primary value? Movement on rock. The redpoint, flash, onsight are all forms of movement. And not mere movement, but clean, graceful, continuous movement over rock. The cleanest, most graceful, most continuous movement happens on redpoint/flash/onsight---and they all lead to climbing the route without falling off.

I couldn't agree with you more here...I value what climbing teaches me, but I think, as a dancer and former gymnast, that it was the feeling of the climbing movement itself that got me hooked and inspired me to want to learn more. The best experiences for me involve not falling as a general rule. Because it's less aesthetic, less of a flow, if I'm falling or at the trutch-point where falling happens.

I will fall to as part of learning process that opens up more terrain where I get to experience movement with as much grace as possible...or as my boyfriend/mentor calls it "a sense of belonging on the rock". Learning is a means to a different end though.

It depends on what I'm doing. I value different aspects of climbing at different times and in different degrees. There is a lot to value.

I enjoy pushing my limits on a redpoint; working out the moves and learning about how my body works (or doesn't). Then the sense of accomplishment when I send. This is the learning part that I like.

I enjoy the thrill of onsighting something. I don't know exactly what's coming but I've put myself on the line. It's like a roller coaster. Not so much learning as using. There is an inherant satisfaction to using ones talent that needs no analysis.

I enjoy the comraderie of friends hanging around bouldering or doing easy routes. This is one of the things that got me into it in the first place. Climbing is an excuse to interact with good people.

I like the view when I do long routes. It can be like taking a walk, albeit a difficult one. The serene feeling of moving quickly and easily up a wall and then turning around to enjoy the view is worth chasing.

So no, the outcome is not that important, but "the process" is way more complex than just learning OR movement

Interesting stuff. I was thinking about this subject just the other day. My partner struggled and bailed off the crux of a climb the other day that was definitely at my limit, really above my current lead ability (so I thought).

He lowered off, and I climbed to where he left off. It was certainly sustained climbing to the crux, but I was joking with him between moves, and really flowing on the rock. It just seemed natural and easy. At the crux, the moves just looked obvious and I cruised to the top with what seemed like little effort. It was really fun.

We are going back tomorrow and I plan to lead it from the ground up. I started thinking, "I should have no problem, I cruised it last time." Then I started thinking, "don't get attached to the outcome, enjoy the experience." Then I thought, "I really want to lead it clean." Then, "it's about the learning."

I guess for me it is about the learning, pushing myself, accomplishment, the journey, and fun.

Then I started thinking, "don't get attached to the outcome, enjoy the experience." Then I thought, "I really want to lead it clean." Then, "it's about the learning."

I think there may be a subtle difference between "desire" and "attachment". I may really want to send something, but I try not to be too attached to it. Attachment is when I BECOME my goal sort of. I start to forget that I am not how I climb any more than I am my f***ing khakis.

From what you say, it seems obvious that if you REALLY want to lead it clean, you will. Imagine for a second the amount of effort you COULD throw at this climb which after all sounds pretty close as it is. Attachment would be saying "I have to lead it clean". It becomes a duty and a reflection on you rather than a simple desire. If you then fail, it becomes disastrous. I think that's the trap that's worrisome. We shouldn't try to forget that we do look to the goal and head for it and want it. Even Zen masters want food, rest, beauty and fun.

I think that climbing is about the learning but also about understanding, which isn't exactly the same thing. Climbing increasingly difficult climbs requires that you learn something about the rock, learn something about how to move across the rock, and how to balance and push yourself. Ultimately, I gain a bit of understanding of myself and the world. I could gain that understanding by pushing myself to become a good golfer, but golf bores me.

I don't think they have to be that different. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi studied climbers early in his career and insights from climbing and other activities led him to his theory of flow. I think most people that get "caught up" in climbing have a moment of flow - timeless, thoughtless, powerful, feelings in which the individual feels they can do their best. These moments are combinations of learning and movement and, reciprocally, learning and movement lead us back to flow.

I personally don't climb at a very high level (5.11b/c and V5) so I wouldn't say that climbing hard is the biggest motivator for me, I mean I don't spend as much time projecting a route or problem as I do just looking for a problem that has the best movement and flow for my style of climbing. I would much rather spend my time finding that problem that I feel a connection with, a problem that just feels right, whether is is a V1 or a V6. And if it so happens that the problem is out of my range I find it is worth while to persue the send then it is worth the effort of projecting it. For me the ultimate reason that I go climbing is to get that high of just climbing sweet problems or routes regardless of their difficulty.

In another thread, Mellissa asked for "tips" to avoid becoming attached to the outcome. Perhaps the key is to see clearly what it is that you value in climbing. Do you value getting to the top without falling, or do you value the process itself?

I do a lot of redpoint climbing. One thing that I've learned is that I will eventually get the redpoint. Therefore, getting the redpoint is routine, and provides little real satisfaction. Likewise, if I want to climb 5.12d or 5.13a, or whatever, I'll eventually get that grade, so that can't be that big a deal either. So, if I don't care about getting to the top of the climb, or even to the next letter grade, why do I keep trying to get to the top of the climb and to the next letter grade? What is the real motivation behind climbing ever more challenging routes?

Is getting to the top without falling really your motivation for climbing? If so, then why do you choose routes that you can't onsight? If you could consistently onsight 5.11d, what would you do, keep climbing 5.11d? No, you'd climb 5.12a's, and if that weren't hard enough, you'd keep bumping it up until you fell. Consistently getting to the top without ever falling would quickly get boring; therfore, the "outcome" must not be what we truly value. It must be something else; namely, the learning.

-Jay

You make an insightful observation

I climbed extensively for almost thirty years without ever really analyzing what I liked about it. I have been involved in so many different aspects of the sport that what I've most enjoyed has probably changed quite a bit from time to time.

It has been slightly more than two seasons since I stopped climbing seriously, because of a severe spinal injury, so I have had many occasions to reminisce about those years. It seems that what I usually tend to recall most are things that, before, might have seemed insignificant.

Some examples:

-Sticking a very difficult move during a redpoint.

-Looking down and seeing nothing but air and distant ground beneath my feet.

- Arriving back at the rock club, after sending a project, and sharing stories about that particular route with friends.

In other words, it seems to be the camaraderie and the subtle things that really stuck with me. As for the climbing, per se, I'd have to say that it was the random moments of achievement - the ones that caused momentary euphoria.

Those are the memories that are bringing me back to the sport now.

I have often heard statements like "Climb for the fun - not the numbers." as well as other such comments. I don't agree. I believe that what motivates us to climb is very personal, and it changes throughout our climbing careers, so my advice would be to climb for whatever reason motivates you at the time, and try to savor the experience.

I also value improving my skills at a particular discipline, for its own sake. Working hard to get better at a game (whatever it may be; and I've interest in quite a few other than rock climbing) is quite rewarding (and sometimes aggravating too ;)).

Therefore, getting the redpoint is routine, and provides little real satisfaction. Likewise, if I want to climb 5.12d or 5.13a, or whatever, I'll eventually get that grade, so that can't be that big a deal either.

The primary value? Movement on rock. The redpoint, flash, onsight are all forms of movement. And not mere movement, but clean, graceful, continuous movement over rock. UB

Take chess for example ! There are those 3-4 movement problems chess players like to solve. This could be compared to bouldering. A chess game is actually a row of problems linked to each other. This should compare to a climbing route. Whether you loose or win (you send or you fall) the way you solve the problems makes you enjoy the game (the climb). Of course there's always that bitter taste of the defeat, or the unfinished business syndrome when you loose (or fail to send) but that tricky move you made during the game was so sweet ...

I hesitated replying due to not reading all of the book, but I take each climb as an adventure, whether it's an easy 5.3 or at my limit. Each move, each piece of the rock, each inch up I go is exciting. Even if I fall, it's still exciting. I love the excitement and newness of every climb.

I have no personal goals to meet, except to climb as many different routes as I can possibly climb. I really don't care if you climb harder then me or vise-versa. Just being there is enough.

As I was growing up, I saw climbers as a rare breed of men. They were explorers, going where no-one had gone before. They were like mountain men whose friend was danger. The excitement ... and I don't ever see the excitement diminishing ... ever!

For me, developing more awareness seems to be what I value, not just in climbing but in many aspects of my life. By challenging myself to redpoint or on-sight I develop more awareness of what I'm capable of. I come face-to-face with my weaknesses and fears and am therefore given opportunities to deal with them.

Some posters mentioned flow being most valued. I agree with some clarifications. There are times when we want to NOT be challenged and just enjoy the movement and how climbing flows out of us without having to struggle. This is very valuable and I must admit, is the type of climbing I do mostly these days. To only value this in climbing seems limiting. But, then again, it depends on what you want from climbing. However, by challenging yourself you develop skills that will allow you to flow better. By just valuing the nice, comfortable, flowing climbing you won't develop skills that will help you flow better. We can all develop more efficient, flowing climbing but we must learn something in order to accomplish this. Thus, back to the foundation of ww--valuing learning. Example: when I practice continuous climbing I improve my flow. But, there are many variations on how to climb continuously so I continually practice and learn and apply. Then, movement feels even better... arno

I feel pretty similar to many of the people replying to this thread and their replies touch on what I value in climbing.

For me, I guess I value the overall experience, the journey of discovery I get from onsighting, the movement, the feel and features of the rock, the jigsaw puzzle of placing gear, the places and people.

For me, the experience does include getting to the top, but it also includes an element of learning. It's somewhere in between the traditional getting to the top desire, and the full RWW learning desire. I want to get to the top but I want to do, savour, and experience all the climbing to get there. I value the doing, not the having done.

I used to be more into ticking, just getting to the top, and having done routes. But I started having more occasions where I really relished the routes, but afterwards, looking at what I had "acheived", I started to realise that the what I was valuing was not getting a tick or proudly remembering what I'd done, but the experience itself.

Myself. I know that when I climb at any level that it was me and only me that had to work and dedicate myself for months and years to be able to attain such ability that I can climb harder and push the limits further. I know that when I step upto a 5.12a it is my ability and mine only that will determine the outcome of if I can or cannot climb it.

I value the individualism of rock climbing. The ability to choose between trad. top rope, big wall, crack, overhang, boulder, free solo, and more. I value that each individual can choose how, what and why they want to climb, because in the end I know what it takes to climb a 12a, 11c, 10a, 9-, 8+ and I know that other climbers like me had to go through the same difficulty and practice and worked through it.

I value that everything I learned about rock climbing was the result of my self interest in the topic. I had to want to learn it and I had to find ways to learn it. I value the rewards of my work and earning that next climb.